


Discipline

by analog_romeo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alternate Ending, BDSM, Dubious Consent, M/M, Pegging, Rope Bondage, Trans Male Character, Trans Morty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6866512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/analog_romeo/pseuds/analog_romeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"I brought you in here to teach you a lesson."</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discipline

“Come with me,”

“Yeah, gladly,” Morty replied, following his doppleganger down the hall and away from their Ricks.

“Jeez man, Ricks, huh?” he ad-libbed, as his alter guided him to another room. The other Morty didn’t seem to take notice or reply, so the captive asked another question. “Hey man, you seem to know how this place works. Is there any way we can shut down that grid and rescue all those Mortys outside?”

Finally, the other Morty looked up from the pad he was typing away on. “It would be pointless,” he stated blank and cold. “Mortys have no chance of defeating a Rick.” He shrugged off whatever he was feeling and waved the captive Morty along, leading him to a room deeper into the curious hallway.

Soon enough they came upon a door, which slid open once Evil Rick’s Morty pressed down on a button. “In here,” he murmured, pointing C-137’s Morty into the room.

He let himself in, as directed, making himself familiar with his surroundings. Before him was a leather seat, and a small desk in front of it. There were similar leather couches at different points in the room, but he figured he was wanted at the seat, as the other Morty has positioned himself behind the desk.

“Sit,” Evil Morty ordered. The other Morty did as told.

On the walls around him hung leashes, ropes, and whips, as well as many other items the fourteen-year-old had only seen in horror films. He couldn’t even fathom what purpose they would serve.

“Morty Smith of Earth Dimension C-137,” the Morty behind the desk recited. “So, I’m finally meeting the Morty that belongs to the Intergalactic Federation’s most wanted Rick,”

“I don’t _belong_ to him,” he said, getting defensive.

“Maybe not in a literal sense, but by the galaxy’s order of things,” he explained, standing himself up, so that he was above Smith.

Morty shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling very small.

“I brought you here for a reason, other than to divert you away from the Rick you’re so defiant toward,” he calmly spoke, squaring the corner around the desk and straightening himself up before C-137.

Suddenly, Smith was aware of the whip in the other’s hand.

“Personally, I don’t appreciate such defiance.” His grip tightened so harshly on the whip that his knuckles cracked.

In one swift motion, the whip struck the sitting boy against his chest. Morty winced and yelped on impact.

“What the _hell?_ ” he snapped, getting another lashing to the chest. Tears pricked at his eyes, though his binder absorbed most of the shock.

“And disrespect toward _me_ , C-137, will not be tolerated either.”

Morty sat back in his chair, frozen with shock, his gaze fixated on the floor as he caught his breath, but still he didn’t release his tension.

The one in the authoritative position, too, took a deep breath, lightly tapping the whip against his opposite palm. “I brought you in here to teach you a lesson,”

The submissive’s knuckles tightened. “You-you-you-you-” He bit his stuttering tongue. “What makes you think you’re any higher up than me? Huh? You’re just another Morty,”

Evil Rick’s Morty rolled his shoulders back, then sprung forward, lowering himself to C-137’s level. He wrenched the boy by the shirt, grimacing in his face.

“As long as you belong to Rick Sanchez of Earth Dimension C-137,” he spat, “You will _always. Be. Lower than me._ ”

Morty shivered despite himself, both at the tone and at the sudden closeness of this foreign lookalike. He once again bit his tongue, now afraid to talk back to this other Morty Smith.

He released his grip on the sitting boy’s shirt, then stood himself back up.

“In fact,” he spoke, once again in a completely monotone voice, “You need to learn this lesson a lot more than I thought.”

He swallowed hard, flinching at nothing, before daring to ask, “What lesson?”

The other Morty straightened up. He pet his fingers over the tail of the whip in his hand, eyeing it deviously. Without another word, he again cracked it against C-137’s raw chest. This in turn got another shriek.

“That no matter how worthless the Rick you belong to is, if you belong to someone, you will _not_ disrespect them.”

The whip snapped against his chest two more times, the pain clashing with the restriction that was his binder. “What the _fuck,_ ” he cried, without thinking.

Evil Morty gritted his teeth. He set his whip firmly down on his desk. “What,” he begin, harshly, coming up close again to the version if himself sitting weakly and taking it. “Did you say to me?”

He twitched, but said nothing.

The standing boy brought himself back. “That’s what I thought,” he breathed. He slipped himself behind the desk and opened a drawer, pulling something out that the boy in the chair recognized too late.

Bringing himself back to the chair, he grabbed C-137 tight by the wrist and yanked him up violently. He clicked the metal around his restrained wrist, before dragging him to a pole and tethering him there with the other cuff.

Morty gasped at first, then made a guttural noise deep in his throat in shock. “What the-” He yanked vigorously and relentlessly at the handcuffs. “What the hell? _What the hell?_ ”

“Discipline, C-137,” Evil Morty said calmly.

“Let me go,” Morty begged, “Let me go! _Let me go!_ ”

“Not until you’ve learned your lesson,” he replied, making his way closer closer _too close_ to C-137’s Morty. The look in his eyes softened from sudden death to mischevious. “And we’ve barely begun,”

Morty, now writhing, started to flail, but stopped short. The other Morty reached into his pocket and retrieved a pair of scissors. “Now stay still unless you want to be cut open.”

His breathing hitched, then stopped. The other boy grabbed Morty’s collar, then started to cut it in a downward direction, before cutting it completely off. Morty felt his breath quicken again, and this time, his blood began to rush.

The other Morty again started to tug on C-137’s binder. Instead of panicking, the half-naked boy now began to wonder whether this alternate dimension version of himself was also trans.

A few snips and the binder was off, revealing Morty’s small but perky breasts. “Now for the rest of you,”

He tensed again and bit his lip. His alternate nearly ripped off the restrained Morty’s pants, before starting to cut away at his boxers.

Morty Smith was now completely naked and exposed, except for his socks, at the hand of some sadistic alternative version of himself. He felt himself throb.

The dom replaced his whip and uncuffed Morty from the pole. “Now sit down in this chair,” he threatened, pointing to another chair, this one stark and wooden. “And if you don’t do what I say, Smith, you’ll never see your Rick again.”

He swallowed hard, but sat down as he was told. The other boy pulled ropes off the wall, and bound Morty to the chair. One he wrapped around Smith’s abdomen and the chair, fastening it tightly. C-137 shut his eyes firmly. His legs were wrenched apart, and ankles tied down to the legs of the chair.

Evil Morty stood back up and rolled his shoulders back. Now this Morty was truly exposed, his opening spread and gleaming for the world. Or, at least, for his Morty.

The exposed boy looked up, innocent and frightened, and found that his dom was taking his shirt off as well. He found his question answered as the half-clothed Morty removed his own binder. He now relaxed a little bit.

The half-naked Morty once again went behind his desk, opening another drawer and pulling out something with a lot of straps, and another thing that looked a lot like a dick.

Morty gasped brokenly. The other boy slipped his pants off, and slowly pulled his boxers down, replacing it with the strap-filled contraption. The submissive Morty now took into account the gaping hole in the front of the underwear-like thing the other Morty had just put on. The dominant one filled the whole with the dick-looking thing, which C-137 assumed was a dildo.

He then approached the naked and bound boy. He noted the whiplashes on his breasts, and the dripping coming from his hole.

“Already wet for me, you boy-slut,”

Morty shuddered at the words. He’s never been spoken to like this before, and never in a million alternate realities would’ve imagined that he’d like to be. His hole throbbed again.

The other Morty stabbed two fingers into the bound boy’s cunt, eliciting a moan-like scream. “And so tight, too,”

He breathed in harshly, then stuttered. “Please,” he begged, “what’s all this for?”

“Punishment,” Evil Morty reiterated. He slid the thick dildo into the other boy’s hole, stretching it out violently. He rested his hands heavy against the other boy’s sore shoulders.

“Nngh,” Morty drew in quick, raspy breaths, moaning desperately in massive pain. The cold, dry toy stretched him out wider than he ever wanted to be. He’d used his fingers before, of course, but that was on his own terms, and usually with a lot of spit.

“Scream for me, whore,” the alternate’s voice was cold.

“Aah, aah,” C-137 groaned, the pain of the stretch dulling. The boy inside of him pulled his hips back and snapped them home again. Just like his master commanded, the boy screamed.

“Louder, louder! Rick can’t hear you here,” he muttered, pounding into the boy tethered to the chair.

The boy beneath him made inhumane noises, the toy destroying his pussy.

“ _Louder,_ ” the dominant Morty repeated.

Morty Smith screamed again, throbbing against the toy grinding inside him. He screamed again and again and again, his cunt tightening on the fake cock. It felt almost as if he was approaching orgasm, but the pain was too loud to tell.

“Cum for me, slut! Cum for me, C-137,”

He came so hard his vision blurred, and his entire body seized. The other boy kept pounding into him, though, until Morty was screaming and his opening was sore.

The dominant boy pulled out, then caressed Smith gently by the cheek. “I hope you feel that for a long time, and remember this next time you’re defiant.” He pulled his hand away, then clapped it back against the boy’s face at full force.

Morty slumped weakly against his restraints. Evil Rick’s Morty untied him, pulling him to his feet, then went back behind his desk a final time. He threw an identical set of clothes at the naked, marked boy.

“Now get dressed, your Rick’s waiting for you.”


End file.
